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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26362867">RIP</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitchyArtisan/pseuds/bitchyArtisan'>bitchyArtisan</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: The Last Airbender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, F/M, M/M, Waterbender OC</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:40:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,582</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26362867</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitchyArtisan/pseuds/bitchyArtisan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Honestly, this is a bunch of blurbs and pieces for something bigger I might write someday. I'm in love with ATLA and I've not only created my own OC but literally an entire tribe and family and world around her. Essentially exerts from a fic I'm still creating in my head.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sokka (Avatar)/OC, Sokka (Avatar)/Original Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Constellations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I know you’re awake, my dear.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite knowing that voice anywhere, Sav didn’t move from her spot, curled into a tight ball in the corner of her bed. It had been days since- since </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but she still felt cold. It was like a chill in her bones, Ever present and distracting, it detached her from everything around her. She couldn’t feel the warmth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come for a walk with me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A walk? Normally she’d have been excited to follow her grandpa anywhere, following his flank closely as he went about his grownup business. Now she couldn’t see why. Home was a large ship, but it was still a ship. To her 8 year old self, she already knew every nook and cranny anyways. What was the point in taking a walk when there was nothing to see? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The sky is clear tonight,” she could </span>
  <em>
    <span>hear</span>
  </em>
  <span> the knowing smile in grandfather’s words, “I can see almost every star in the sky, I reckon.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She perked up. He knew she loved the sky. He’d been the one teaching her all the star patterns and cloud formations, after all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come for a walk with me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He always knew just what to say. Sav was up and walking out onto the deck in no time, rubbing her eyes with one hand and holding his far rougher hand with the other. Those hands, she knew, were coarse from ship work. Tying ropes and mending sails and carving wood and lifting entire seas with nothing but a motion. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They emerged from the quarters, and the moment the door was opened, Sav was gawking at the heavens, just as expected. She wandered away from her grandpa without even noticing, eyes fixed on the myriad of little lights above. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There were so many. More than the people she’d ever seen. More than the living things in the ocean. More than the grains of sand on the shore. And they teetered on the edge of random and patterned, so aimless but so designed at the same time. Swirls of color almost like tufts of clouds trailed across the dots, but there wasn’t a puff in sight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She wanted to </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Know what each and every one was called. What all the patterns were, and what they meant. Know where they were, and how to use them to travel. What those streaks of color were. Know if she could touch them someday. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her expression was truly one of delight. A giddy sort of grin spread across her lips, open mouthed as she giggled. When she glanced back, she caught her grandpa looking at her. He quickly turned his eyes upward, pretending to look innocent. She’d seen that look before. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> looked at her like that, especially when she did something dumb, like trip over the rope wraps again, or said something all the adults laughed at. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He used to look at her dad like that too, now that she thought about it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tell me about the patterns again!” she demanded, pointing at the sky. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The constellations, you mean,” he corrected her, and she nodded eagerly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah yeah, those!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took her smaller hand in his and aimed her fingers to trace the lines of one. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That is The Great Wagon. They say our oldest ancestors built to escape from our foes undetected.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Our foes?” Sav questioned, not quite sure about the word or who it concerned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shook his head dismissively. “Old enemies. Wars come and gone. From here,” he pulls her finger up a ways to a somewhat bright star. “This is the North Star. If you ever need to head North, you follow this star.” Sav nodded halfheartedly, caught up in the information once more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“These are the eyes of Naoki. He was said to have the sharpest eyes of any Eastern Sea tribe member. He remembered every place he’d ever been, and knew exactly how to sail there. His eyes led the way. He is always in the East. Wherever the sun rises, he will be.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sav memorized his words like they were gospel. The Wagon from the North. Naoki’s eyes from the East. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sora is the mightiest warrior. His arrow points you in the direction of the West. He could withstand any trial, any tribulation. Down here,” he pointed to a small star a bit below the constellation, “they say is his </span>
  <em>
    <span>toe</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He out-swam a shark only by the tips of his toes- however, he did lose the one.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The little one giggled, thinking about some ancient man losing his toe in the water. Her face fell, though, when being stuck underwater reminded her of something she wished she could forget. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her grandpa noticed the cold and distant look returning. “You know why he does it, my dear?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She scowled at the ground, eyes stinging with tears. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He does it because he wants you to be the strongest you can be. So you can protect yourself and others.” </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if I’m not supposed to be the strongest?” she asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sat on the deck of the ship, pulled his granddaughter into his lap, and sighed. “Perhaps you are not.” For a second, she almost felt downtrodden. If even </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> didn’t believe in her, what was she good for?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t need to be the strongest to be the best warrior, though.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her grandfather gestured to the sky. “Naoki was not the strongest. But he had his eyes. His keen eyes made him the best warrior. Sora was not the strongest either. Instead, he was determined to win, and smart enough to do it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He waved a hand and water flowed over the edge of the ship, coming to him like a dog being called. With a flourish of his hand, he pulled his palms apart, and the water thinned out to a slender tendril. Moving them in a circular motion, the tendril followed his movements, spinning slowly like a ring, back and forth with the swaying of his hands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You try,” he said, and after a moment’s hesitation, she raised her small hands to the challenge. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She tried to summon what her father always told her. Feel the water. Let it surround you. You and the water, alone. In her control, the water went rigid and rocky, moving much too fast and harsh to match her grandpa’s technique. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You aren’t one with the water, Savana.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She huffed in irritation, and he touched her hands, coaxing them to move more fluid, more precise. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The water is you. You feel the water not because you want to become it, but because it is a part of you. You must stay yourself, or you will never find the water within.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The water was… inside her? The water didn’t define her. She defined the water, in her own way. She shaped it like she shaped herself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sav opened her eyes, and before her was a ring of water, flowing smoothly in circles. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Power isn’t everything, my dear. Having the skill to use power is the true strength.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Father, Oh Father</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The ship rocked even with the stillness of the water- a consequence of living on the sea. Laying on her back against smooth wooden boards, Sav swore she could feel every minute shift in the vessel. Gentle turns and soft winds and the barely-there lick of the waves against the hull. The water rocked her back and forth, back and forth, until the feeling faded from being rocked to rocking herself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a fleeting moment, she thought she knew. Her father preached about it all the time, being one with the water, and she could almost feel it. It was right there, surrounding her, rocking, </span>
  <em>
    <span>rocking</span>
  </em>
  <span>…. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Savana! Get down here </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The 8 year old startled, eyes flashing open to baby blue skies. She sighed through her nose, searching for clouds that she wouldn’t find, until another shout of her name forced her to her feet. Her father’s angry glare was waiting for her when she crawled over the lip of the boat. Her hiding spot hadn’t been much of a hiding spot for a long time. Sav had been crawling into the cradle of the figurehead since she was 4, and her father used to applaud her for her bravery at such a young age. Now, however… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> training began at noon, Savana.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course she </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span>. That was precisely the reason she’d been hiding in the first place. She hated the training lessons. When she’d been smaller, training had sounded like so much fun. The girl had marvelled at her tribe’s abilities for forever, and the idea of being able to do those amazing things was a magical dream planted in her little head. But the further they got into training, the worse it became. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was nothing like she’d imagined. In her mind she’d be growing and learning, looking just her grandpa did when he steered the ship with his bending alone. Instead, there was only shouting and pressure, pressure to be the strongest. The precious metals pierced through her ears were a symbol of her status, but her father insisted she not only wear them, but live up to the family name. And the only way to do that, apparently, was to be able to make waves as high as the fighting top of the mainsail. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sometimes she wondered what her mother would be like, if she had one. Would she argue with her father, tell him to ease up on her? Or would she agree with his methods? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t try to argue,” he snapped, “come. Now.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The girl stomped after him, huffing under her breath. The other children were gathered on the main deck, already practicing their forms under the heavy scrutiny of the elders. “Start your forms,” her father ordered, giving her a shove forward. Sav did as she was told, running through the motions like clockwork. She should know them like the back of her hand, considering she’d been drilling them for years. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A sweep of the hand, strong but fluid, up and over the head. Circle the wrist down and around. Lash like a whip, angle the wrist, fist, and- “</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The water that she’d been moving fell with a smack to the deck floor. The amount of water was voice enough as to why he’d interrupted her. It barely even matched her weight. Only one other child on the deck had such a small outcome. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You need to feel the power in the water, Savana. You need to </span>
  <em>
    <span>be</span>
  </em>
  <span> the water.” The girl’s face scrunched up in annoyance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>trying</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” she said, crossing her arms. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Try harder!” he demanded. “Again!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She ran through the set again. She tried to close her eyes and feel the water again, like she had been earlier, in the figurehead, but the connection was weak, and the water felt cold and unaccepting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It must surround you. You are alone. Only the water provides company.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was alone. Cold, surrounded, and alone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her wave fell like it’d been broken, crumbling apart and hitting the surface of the ship once more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frustration contorted her father’s face like a burn. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Stars</span>
  </em>
  <span>- you have to learn this!” He slammed his fist down on the lip of the boat, coming toward her. In the background, she heard a voice, someone scolding her father, but it was quickly drowned out by shouts of the same irritation her father held. The other child who hadn’t matched up was being lectured as well, and she watched as he cowered away from the elder. Haku, his name was. She knew him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look at me!” Her head whipped back to her father. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You need to be more powerful, do you understand me? What chance will stand against enemies if you can’t even hold a simple wave?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He straightened, his long braids jerking with the motion as he looked down upon the group. His eyes blazed. “All of you are mediocre at best! Is this what our tribe stands for? Weakness? You must be strong, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fight</span>
  </em>
  <span> through the pain.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her father grabbed her arm, dragging her away from the floorboards. In her peripheral vision, she could see an elder do the same to Haku. And then, to her surprise, the rest of the children were snatched up too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sav was so confused. Why? If the others had met the conditions, why were they being punished? Why did they need to fight through the pain? What pain? She didn’t notice, deep in thought, how close she’d come to the edge until her leather skinned boots were scrambling against the edge of the ship. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dad? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dad</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!” The last thing she saw were his dark eyes, set in determination, as he tossed her overboard. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Water flooded her senses, cold and unforgiving. The waves rippled and bucked, booming in her ears as her peers flew into the sea. She tried to swim, dragging her body, heavy with soaked clothes, to the surface. Her head reared above, and she heaved for air, choking around the salty fluid. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When her ears popped, she could hear loud and clear. Screams, shrieks of terror. All around her were the other children, crying, begging for their parents to help them overboard. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fight through the pain,” came from up above. It sounded like her father’s voice, but it couldn’t be. She couldn’t see him. The sun was too blinding if she looked up. If she looked anywhere, really, since it reflected off the water. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fight through the pain</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The waves wouldn’t stop moving, with everyone thrashing about to stay above the water. Sav kept getting hit in the face with it, skin stinging, head pounding. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fight through the pain</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her arms were tired. She felt so much heavier than she had before. Her head was bobbing, her hearing coming in and out as she went under and over the surface. She was sinking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her arms gave out. She slipped under, until she couldn’t see the white light anymore. Just blue. Pretty blue. There was a sort of silence down there, sound blocked out by the water in her ears. All she could feel was pressure, pulling her down. There was an urge to struggle, somewhere in her mind, but then… nothing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was surrounded. Just the water and her. Alone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It didn’t like there were two entities, though. Just one. Which was it? Her… or the water? </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Tell Me A Story</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sitting around the fire telling stories definitely wasn’t the most childish thing the Avatar Gang had done. Sav could think of at least 12 other situations that were worse than this, even factoring in Sokka and Aang’s ‘spooky’ voices as they tried to scare each other in the dark. Even if it wasn’t the most childish, however, it undeniably made them feel like kids. It was nice to actually get to act their age; they so rarely got to enjoy themselves like that anymore. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So Tim just sat there like a statue! Like, mom literally spilled all of that banana and onion juice all over him, and he didn’t move a muscle. He didn’t flinch when it hit him, he didn’t get up to wash it off, nothing! I don’t know how long he just sat there like that but it must have felt pretty sticky after a while.” Ryanne laughed, airbending some lychee nuts out of Sokka’s hand and over to herself. He sputtered indignantly, lunging for them only to be blown back by a strong gust of wind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop pouting Sokka,” Katara scolded, “you’ve eaten half of the lychee nuts already, and Ryanne hasn’t had any. Let her have those ones.” The pout didn’t leave his lips, but the boy didn’t try to grab them again either. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ryanne, </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> of your stories are about your mom or this Tim guy,” Toph complained, “don’t you have anything more interesting?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aang groaned, “I told you guys, his </span>
  <em>
    <span>name</span>
  </em>
  <span> is Guru Pathik.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And I’ve told </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> that I call him whatever my mom calls him. Anyways, he likes Tim. He never said anything when we called him that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe he’s got multiple personalities or something,” Zuko proposed, “sounds like he’s just a crazy guy who keeps changing his name.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And so-</span>
  <em>
    <span>rry</span>
  </em>
  <span> that I spent most of my life on a deserted flying rock, Toph,” Ryanne added, chewing a few nuts. She perked up, “I do have this one story though! It’s about-” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Toph cut her off. “We </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> don’t want to hear another story about gathering tree nuts and Tim-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Guru Pathik!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Toph sighed, “-Guru</span>
  <em>
    <span> Pathetic, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and making pai sho tiles. No offense, Ryanne.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Said girl’s face went stony and impassive. “Wow. None taken, thanks Toph.” She shook her head, feeding a lychee nut to Momo, “It isn’t like that though. This is one my mom told me, about her. It’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>romance</span>
  </em>
  <span> story.” She stuck her tongue out, acting disgusted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aang, Katara, and Sokka scooted forward in their seats, however, entertained. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, she was young. I wasn’t even born yet…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Becca never came to this place for the alcohol. She’d never taken up the habit of drinking like most refugees in Omashu did. Call it ‘sticking to her air nomad ways’ but truthfully, she just didn’t like the feeling, like she was out of her head. People still whispered about her, being out of her head that was- especially her mother. Spirits, did her mother hate her hobbies. All the woman wanted was for Becca to find a husband and a life. “I didn’t rescue us for you to fool around in bars and make pots,” she’d snap, throwing fits as she stirred a pot of curry without ever touching the spoon. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Becca accepted her tea with a grateful smile. It was a jasmine mix, expensive enough that her mother would definitely scold her for later. The airbender ran a hand through her short hair, making sure it still covered her tattoos when she left it. Her mother bothered her about that constantly too. She knew she should probably grow it out, for safety reasons more than anything, but she liked it short. As long as it covered her tattoos, it was fine, she dismissed. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There was someone new in the bar today. A fire nation man by the looks of it, with long, black hair and strong brows. He was a little on the short side, but Becca wasn’t too distracted by looks. What she </span>
  </em>
  <span>was</span>
  <em>
    <span> interested in, was the cup of tea he was nursing at the pai sho table. It was the same jasmine mix she’d ordered. Her keen eyes flickered to the game. The man hadn’t lost a single round. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Speaking of the devil, he made a move after setting his porcelain glass down and smiled knowingly. “You made a valiant effort,” he told his opponent. The man opposite him growled, throwing the money he’d wagered across the table so hard it nearly went soaring off. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Would anyone else like to challenge me?” he asked the bar, a pleasant look still upon his face. He was unaffected by the growing anger surrounding him and the table. The men of the bar would soon lose too much money and their tempers, and then the establishment would lose </span>
  </em>
  <span>another</span>
  <em>
    <span> pai sho board and that would just be a tragedy. “I would,” she called out, breezing her way to the table. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>His amber eyes changed from the moment he saw her. He looked her up and down lazily, fully appreciating the view before she sat down. He sniffed delicately and his eyes lit up. “You got the jasmine tea as well! How do you like it? It’s a perfect mix of soothing and sweet, is it not?” His attitude switched so easily from enticed to passionate, it was enough to give one whiplash. Becca took it in stride, resetting the pai sho pieces gently. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s lovely,” she answered, “a tad expensive for the leaves- they aren’t that good of quality.” The man nodded sincerely. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Would you like to wager anything?” he asked, returning to piqued and interested. Becca gave him a once over, something she could tell he liked. The quality of his robes, the precious metals of his clasps and headpiece- he had money, that was for sure. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hmm… how about, if I win, you pay for my tea.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The man huffed out a laugh, surprised at the small price. The men before could tell he was wealthy as well, but had bet large sums of coin, hoping to win big. “And if </span>
  </em>
  <span>I</span>
  <em>
    <span> win?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She smiled cheerfully. “I make pottery! Perhaps I could give you something.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The man stilled. She was breathtaking. “You’ve got a deal.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Damn! So your mom had an affair with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>firebender</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” Toph snickered, “Did she win?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ryanne grinned, nodding. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span> yeah. She kicked his ass!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What was his name?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ryanne went quiet, thinking hard before sighing. “You know, I can’t remember. I don’t think she actually ever told me his name. She said he was a ‘dragon’ or something.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zuko hummed, “That’s what they called men who’d slayed dragons. My uncle was a ‘dragon’, but he never actually slayed one.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Huh. Interesting,” Ryanne commented. When she finished, Sokka was quick to jump in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ooo I have a story!” Everyone grimaced, memories of horribly explained tales of catching enormous fish that were truthfully little pikes floating in their heads. Sokka’s expression went petulant, bottom lip poking out. “Wowww. It’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> kind of story. It’s about our dad.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katara’s head jerked up, her attention completely on her brother in a matter of seconds. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Katara was slipping on the ice but she kept running after Sokka anyways, following closely behind. It was well past their bedtimes and almost pitch black outside- they really shouldn’t have been out of bed. But Sokka had insisted on it, claiming they’d see something </span>
  </em>
  <span>amazing</span>
  <em>
    <span>. “I heard dad talking about it earlier,” he whispered as he pulled on his boots, “something about the sky. He told Kota it was something he had to see at least once in a lifetime or whatever. It must be cool!” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He stumbled on his way through the tent flap due to Katara tugging at his arm. “Sokka </span>
  </em>
  <span>wait</span>
  <em>
    <span>! What if dad finds out? We’ll get in trouble!” Sokka waved his hand dismissively, rolling his eyes. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“We’ll be extra sneaky then.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Katara still wasn’t too sure, but she’d trailed after her big brother regardless, convincing herself it was only to make sure he didn’t get hurt. Since their mother had been taken a few years ago, she’d been watching over him. He’d gotten reckless, getting himself into all sorts of bad predicaments, pretending he didn’t miss her as much as everyone else. It was up to her, now that mom was gone, to keep him safe. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The pair crept past the tents, tracking a thin trail left in the snow. Sokka was determined to be just like their father, so he did everything the elder did. When he tracked, Sokka mimicked him, down to the very steps he took. When he fished, Sokka observed with studious interest, noting the way he baited the hook carefully. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The trail was pretty obvious, a path of boot prints amongst clean, smooth snow, but it was impressive for such a young boy all the same. They shuffled far away from camp, until the lights of the fires and torches blinked out of sight, and they were pitched into darkness. Katara grabbed onto Sokka’s arm, squeezing tight. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Sokka it’s really dark. Can we go back now?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He huffed, taking her hand in his. “Just a little further. I can feel it.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Their eyes adjusted to the gloom the longer they were in it, until the black started to fade into something brighter. They could make out the edges of white cliffs and snow piles easily. And up above, millions of stars painted the inky sky, twinkling and glimmering. Katara stared, eyes alight. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was nothing compared to when they turned the corner, though. At the end of the path, they could see a group of Southern Water Tribe men huddled together on the ground, sitting with their heads facing up. And above them were </span>
  </em>
  <span>lights</span>
  <em>
    <span>. Beautiful, colorful, intense lights. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They scattered about the sky, moving like they were alive. Greens and purples and blues and pinks, blending together in areas, shifting and waving as they changed over and over again. The lights sort of reminded Sokka of water, like the small streams of water that sometimes ran through the snow when it got a little warmer. He laughed in excitement, raising his hand to wave back. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Katara gasped, her little blue eyes full of wonder as she gawked, mouth dropped open. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The men before them whipped around, jumping to their feet, but calmed when they realized it was just a couple of children. Hakoda gestured for them to sit back down and made his way over, arms crossed over his chest as he peered at his son and daughter expectantly. “You got out of bed and followed us out here after dark,” he stated, voice firm. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They shied away sheepishly, Katara hiding behind Sokka with their noses pointing down. Sokka sighed. “I’m sorry dad. I just… I wanted to see what you told Kota about. You said it was ‘one time in a life’ or something. It sounded super cool and Katara just didn’t want me to get hurt.” Hakoda let out a heavy breath, then cradled Sokka’s guilt-ridden face with a warm palm. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You must have been very brave, walking through the dark all alone. Did you track us? Like we do when we hunt? Very good job, Sokka. You’ll be a warrior in no time.” He took their hands and led them to where the group was watching the dancing lights. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“But- don’t do that again. It’s dangerous out here on your own. If you want to know about something, just ask me.” He sat down and Katara crawled into his lap, turning her gaze back to the lights. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sokka observed for a bit, then couldn’t help his curiosity. “What are they?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hakoda patted his son’s head, marvelling at the heavens himself. “They’re called Aurora. The Southern Lights.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sokka eyed the fire fondly, fingers clenching in his tunic. Katara was smiling something happy and sad at the same time. Sav knew what that felt like. Looking back on family could be amazing, but somber as well. There was a fine line between feeling happy about the memories and missing who they were about. She had them about her own family all the time. Her dad and grandpa, and her uncle and cousins, and her friends and teachers- they all weighed heavy in her head, reminding her of what she was fighting for whenever she felt lost. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You travelled on ships all the time, didn’t you Sav? Did you ever see the lights?” Ryanne questioned, stroking Momo’s fur. The lemur had curled up in her lap, warm and comfortable. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sav shook her head. “No, I didn’t. We never got close enough to the Southern Pole, I think. We saw a lot of stars, though. My grandpa taught me so many of them, sometimes it feels like I could name off the whole sky.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aang’s head shot up. “What about that one?” he pointed randomly, wanting to see her skills in action. Sav worried for a second that all the stars would be different, being so far away from the Eastern Sea, but when she looked up she recognized plenty of constellations. There were a few she couldn’t place, but she supposed that came with new territory. She leaned over a bit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That one is Sora, the mightiest warrior.” Her grandfather’s words rang tried and true in her head, and repeated them back, explaining it to her friends. “That star just under him is supposed to be his toe, actually.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Toph cackled. “You’re lying,” she accused, despite not being able to see the stars. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sav laughed lightly. “I’m not. According to legend, he had his toe bit off by a shark.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The group burst into laughter. “Is that all you learned about on those ships,” Sokka snorted, “about sharks and toes?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sav smiled. “No, of course not. There was something new every day. We went </span>
  <em>
    <span>everywhere</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She recalled a few of the villages they’d stopped at when one came to mind. “People didn’t always like us, though. There was this one place we went to…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sav really liked this village. It was probably one of her favorites, if only because there was a festival going on when they arrived, and all of the activities were just so fun. They had sweets the little girl didn’t usually get and waterbending tricks and fireworks, spirits they had </span>
  </em>
  <span>fireworks</span>
  <em>
    <span>. The majority of the men had flooded into the bar as soon as they’d stocked their reserves, looking for a bit of liquor and fun. Sav didn’t understand what was so fun about drinking gross water, but if that’s what her dad liked to do, so be it. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sav took the time to explore while the adults were busy, flitting around and discovering new things. She met a little boy skipping stones in a fountain, though he wasn’t very good at it. She tried her hand at it, and the stone skipped twice the amount his had. The boy noticed right away that she was a bender, though, and demanded she buy them sugar melon on a stick to pay him back for cheating. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Her grandpa had given her some spare coins for treats anyways, she reasoned. The two meandered around the festival, enjoying bites of sweet melon while they talked back and forth. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“So you’re with the sea people, huh?” he asked her, licking juices off his fingers. She nodded, taking a too-big bite out of her melon. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah,” she mumbled around a full mouth, “why?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He shrugged. “My mom says I shouldn’t talk to you guys when you come to town. She says you’re mean- but you don’t seem mean.” Sav froze mid-bite, mouth half open. She elbowed the boy hard and he yelped, rubbing his sore ribs when she giggled. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“We can’t be mean. I just bought you melon!” She pointed at his melon, and he nodded, only half paying attention. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah, but it’s not just that. She says you guys are dangerous or something. You don’t bend nice or whatever. Plus, those big guys are kinda scary.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sav thought about the big and tough warriors of her tribe. She guessed she could understand where people came from sometimes. They probably looked sorta scary, getting off their giant ships with the bright flags, wearing furs and earrings and crooked grins. They were strong, yeah, but they were good people. They helped the villages they stopped at; gave them business and took out thugs that ran around causing problems. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>In front of the two kids, a man burst from the doors of the bar, landing flat on his back. Her father was two steps behind and tripping all over himself, eyes hazy in the way that they got when he drank too much gross water. Her grandpa always got really mad when her dad was like that, but Sav thought it was funny. Why? Because he was so silly. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The man stood back up on shaky legs, then swung at her dad, missing by a mile. Her dad shouted something unintelligible, then leaped at the man, tackling him right into a mascot dressed as a koi fish for the festival. The koi fish went flying, and all of the bodies tumbled together in a heap. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sav and the boy stepped back but didn’t stop watching as the koi fish punched her dad in the stomach, and suddenly her dad was fighting a koi fish. The two kids were practically howling, clutching their stomachs from how hard they were laughing. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eventually they’d be kicked out of town, but not before the boy pecked her on the cheek and told her he didn’t think the sea people were that bad. She’d always remember that village, and the boy who didn’t judge her people like everyone seemed to, and the time her dad fought a koi fish. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone was doubled over by the time she’d finished, imagining her drunk father fighting a poor guy in a koi fish costume. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That poor man,” she grinned, “he was just doing his job. He probably couldn’t even see through that fish head.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Man, your tribe is wild,” Toph said, shaking her head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you ever see the boy again?” Aang asked quietly, “He seemed nice.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sokka’s face turned a little sour, unbeknownst to her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nah,” Sav muttered, “We were just little kids. I didn’t really like him all that much anyways. He had a really big nose.” She wrinkled her own thinking about it, chuckling to herself. Sokka relaxed a little, using a stick to pick at the fire. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wish we could do this more often,” Ryanne remarked softly, staring at the swish of the flames. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, me too. Sometimes I forget how young we are,” Katara voiced, “we never get to just have fun.” The group nodded in agreement. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, once I take down the fire lord, we’re all gonna take a long vacation. One with all the mini-vacations we can think of,” Aang announced, ever the optimist. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mini-vacations?” Zuko inquired. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Toph, Aang, Katara and Sokka brightened at a memory they all shared. “Yeah, you guys weren’t with us then. So, basically we were all tired out and looking for this library under the sand and…” </span>
</p>
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